


and then the bad things happen (they happen because of you)

by OfFandomTrash



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: A lot - Freeform, Because Ben IS iconic, Hurt/Comfort, Past Character Death, and i am terrible for this, but a lot of hurt, but it is Peter so, but major, comfort is short, he can’t help himself, he loves his aunt, non-negotiable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 01:27:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfFandomTrash/pseuds/OfFandomTrash
Summary: Nobody else would die. Peter couldn’t save his uncle, and he couldn’t save his parents, but he would save May..(He would save her from a world where people died and he was the reason for it.)





	and then the bad things happen (they happen because of you)

**Author's Note:**

> I love Marvel. I stan Marvel. 
> 
> I love Peter Parker. I stan Peter Parker. 
> 
> Now here is a fic that will make you doubt those claims.

— ❝When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen.. they happen because of you.❞

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ✧ • ° . ✧ • ° .

It felt like the sky, the world— /Peter’s world/— was falling down (and not for the first time. This happened every year.)  
Things went dark and  
it was like he was flatlining [again]  
but at the same time  
it was like he was flatlining for the /first time./

If time healed all pain,   
(how much time had to pass?) 

And it was today, he [knew] what day it was before opening his eyes— and he could already smell waffles being made in the kitchen (waffles, of course) of their tiny apartment complex by the only other person who could be hurting worse than /he/ was. And, he [knew] that she was.   
(He knew, he knew, he /knew/)  
And none of that was going to help him. None of that was going to help [her.] Aunt May. His only lasting relative who loved him so much, and loved Uncle Ben so much, and cared so much  
(and hurt too much.) 

Peter pried the blankets off of his aching body, pulling himself out of bed to the beating of his heart— thumping a constant reminder; a mantra of “May, May, May,” and he /had/ to get up for her and he /had/ to be strong for her and he /had/ to silence the concern creeping up his spine and crowding his mind. It was a symphony of “It was your fault”s and “You should have been there”s.  
(But mostly, it was “You have to save her because you [didn’t] save him. You didn’t.”)

Peter dressed himself into casual clothing, nothing that would send off any alarm bells within his aunt or pull her into concern for /him/ when she already had so [much] to worry about. He opened his door loud enough so that she would expect his presence opposed to being frightened and pulled abruptly from the ocean that was her mind (that had drowned her.) 

Turning into the kitchen, Peter’s enhanced senses were aware of two things immediately.   
One being, May had burnt something.   
And two, she was quite aware. 

Peter walked in further for inspection, gaze roaming over his aunt to spot the difference— to detect the issue. It wasn’t until he’d gotten to her hand that he noticed the burn on her palm from where she must have grabbed a cooking waffle without thinking (or looking). 

“Aunt May? /Shit./—Uh, sorry..about the language.. and everything..but your [hand..]” He made an attempt to reach for her wrist, but she gently shrugged it off and offered a gentle (forced) smile at him. “I’m alright, Peter. If I wasn’t, you’d be the first to know. And I don’t mean thanks to those powers of yours either, Mister. I’d tell you before your senses could even get whiff of it.” She corrected, turning back toward the breakfast and frowning at the waffles (/always/ waffles) when she didn’t think he could see. 

However, this did not stop Peter from being, well- /Peter/ and doing what he did best when things were hard and this was /May/ and all he wanted to do was make her smile again. “I know you are. But you still could’ve woken me, y’know? Like, you could have come told me and I probably wouldn’t have thrown a pillow at you.” He reasoned, jumping up on the counter in order to sit on the surface. “Besides, when I got these powers, I realized I had the ability to heal things.. No, /really/, Aunt May, [anything]! Cuts, bruises, scrapes..“ (Anything but a broken heart.) 

He rambled to make her feel better (and because it was a nervous tick) /not/ because anything he said was actually true. And she knew that. (if he really had the power to heal things, he’d never have come home with as many cuts as he did when patrolling the neighborhood.) She also knew he was just trying to make her feel better. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Spider-Man. Now, go sit down— or whatever spiders do— at the table. These are almost done, alright?” She dismissed him with a mock pointed stare, which would have been hilarious any other day of the week. 

He did do as he was asked, however, and sat at the dining room table and waited for Aunt May to come out with plates. When she did, it was with a frown etched on pouty lips and three plates balanced on her arms. If it were any other day, he’d wonder who was joining them for breakfast..   
But today, he knew who it was.   
(Or, rather, who it [should] have been.)

Peter chooses, wisely, not to comment and, instead, accepts the plate of waffles lathered in syrup that she had placed before him. And, so it went, they ate in silence and Peter wolfed his down because yes, his metabolism worked quicker and he was fifteen and both offered very few sparing glances in the direction of the third chair.

If three is a crowd..  
(Why is two so lonely?) 

It isn’t until they were finished and the third plate remained [untouched] that May loses her composure and drops the plate on the ground while they cleared the table. The glass shards scattered across the floor and it took quick, spider-like reflexes like Peter’s to catch her before she fell and cut herself on the shattered remains. He leads her safely away from the danger zone, choking on tears while she lets hers go, clinging to his sweatshirt and continuously proclaiming that he was /gone./ 

Just like they always did on this day— the anniversary of his uncle, her /husband/, Ben’s death. 

Peter makes a movement to lift her onto the couch— to let her rest while he cleans up so she doesn’t have to be reminded of it when she wakes up— only to be stopped by her hand on his arm, keeping him there. Through tears, May meets his gaze. 

“I love you,” She mumbles, and the tears that had threatened to spill over in Peter’s eyes, do. His world shakes and tumbles until he has no choice but to accept that it could easily crash at any moment. Because May was his world.. (she was all he had left..) He doesn't think that those three words, [I love you], will be enough. They may never be enough. He doesn't know if they’ll ever be okay with what happened, or if they’ll ever make peace with this fresh /scar/, but he does know that living without May was the worst thing imaginable. It couldn't be done.

“I love you too.” He reassures her just as she pulls him against her again, allowing him time to cry and grieve, too, while she did. 

And he does. He allows her to hold him because he was /just a kid/ and he doesn’t bother to mop away the tears that continue to fall from misty optics- that stream down young features and porcelain cheeks like a rainstorm with no end. 

And while she holds him, and cries into his shoulder, and completely comes undone like she always did on [this] day [every] year.. 

Peter makes a promise to himself that stays in his mind— made only for him to hear and /never forget/: 

Nobody else would die. Peter couldn’t save his uncle, and he couldn’t save his parents, but he would save May.   
(He would save her from a world where people died and he was the reason for it.) 

Because he had powers now.   
And he’d be damned if somebody else had to d i e before Spider-Man saved the day.. 

(Because without the suit he was nothing. And with the suit, he was everything.)


End file.
